Okugi It's what we desire
by DVHS
Summary: Mystery Man meets Weird Inn.  The story begins when a man comes out of nowhere and lands near Hinata Apartments.  The story carries from there.  Completed.  Thank you for sticking with the story.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

This story begins, not as the proverbial story goes on a dark and stormy night, but instead a clear and beautiful day. It was Japan, some years ago. Not too long ago, however, approximately ten years ago. The setting for this tale was an inn, seemingly run off of funds from nowhere. The Hinata Inn. Or just outside of it, in actuality. Just outside being a relative term, by the way.

The story truly begins a few miles from it, and begins with a bang. A literal bang, not a figurative one. A loud noise, a flash, a tall man. These all came out of nowhere. The man was, obviously, the most interesting. Unless you were blind. Then the bang probably startled you more. Looking extremely Western, and the clothing suggested from not coming anywhere near Japan itself. He wore a jacket, made out of the traditional tweed of the British, while the shirt underneath was tattered, torn and frayed in various, and seemingly random places. His pants were in the exact same condition. He had a fedora perched on the top of his head, which was stained and discoloured from years of seeming abuse.

But the body of the man would have attracted more attention if anyone deemed to look at him. His body was scarred around the hands, for that was all one could see. His face, however, was clean, and showed no signs of any type of damage. His hair was impossible to glean information from. It was either grey, or extremely dirty. Taking from the shape of the man, it was probably the former. His actual body shape was nothing of note. He was skinny. That was all one could see. There seemed to be little muscle attached to the body. And yet again we have to look at the most interesting point. His eyes. His eyes were a deep grey, stormy and dark. They were impenetrable, guarding some sense of secrecy. What that was; was impossible to tell. When taken together, and added into this one man, he was obviously not exactly handsome.

He wasn't unattractive, but most people wouldn't take a second glance at him for his looks. His odd style of dress, yes. But not his attractiveness. Never for his attractiveness. Which actually added to his mystery, which was another thing that would turn heads. Yet not that fatal attractiveness. Which obviously meant that he had had a gay lover somewhere along the line. Maybe.

But now, back to the actual action. For the man didn't come out of just nowhere. No, he came out of nowhere as if he was flung by someone extremely strong, who hated his guts. Probably his spurned gay lover upon learning that he wanted to date women at the same time. If such alleged gay lover existed. He didn't quite have a balance, and unfortunately for him, there was a wall opposing him. Screeching his feet hard, he still was unable to avoid the wall, slamming into it, and bloodying his nose. This, however, seemed to be a minor nuisance to him. Instead, he just grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen from his pocket. And started writing, even as blood dripped from his nose onto his paper.

The writing was in an alien language, or at least indecipherable to most people who would have looked. Quickly finishing what he wrote, he stuffed the notepaper into his pocket, and started running. Running faster than his body frame suggested he could, even though it wasn't particularly fast. Faster than an average person, yes. But nowhere near enough to justify someone wondering whether or not his life was endangered.

The purpose of his running was unclear. He just ran and ran, going to every place of hospitality he could find. Inns, Hotels, Hospitals. Yet he shook his head at every one, muttering something to himself, to which the casual observer, it would sound like, 'No, this isn't a good place. I need to find a good place. It's going to be gone soon, and I need to find a place so I can regain it. Regain what will be lost.' On this path, he stumbled upon the Hinata Inn.

Or in more accurate terms, he stumbled in front of the Hinata Inn, and couldn't pick himself back up. In overall, it seemed that he had run over ten miles, from place to place, at the same speed. But now, he could move no further. His head fell to the ground and he fell silent.

This might have been the end of our story if a young Keitaro, somewhere in the middle of studying for one of his Tokyo U exams, didn't happen to notice the man. And being the strong and independent male that he is, failing to carry him up the steps before Aoyama Motoko, after yelling at him for a while for some perceived slight, helped him finish carrying him up the stairs.

After a few minutes, it was the talk of the entire dorm. Kaolla Suu poked his face slightly, before declaring inedible. Konno 'Kitsune' Mitsune, being slightly tipsy at the time, declared he could lie on her bed. Urashima Haruka quickly shot down that idea. Maehara Shinobu was slightly scared of the man, even if he was inert. Motoko wanted to throw him on the streets for being a dirty, old lecherous man. Even though he seemed about 20 years of age. Except for those endless eyes. The only not staring at the body at the moment was Narusegawa Naru, who was out at the moment doing something, which Kitsune believed meant that she was on a hot steamy date.

In the end, the only consensus they had was to stick his body in Keitaro's room. The man with no name was placed under some blankets and monitored, mainly by Keitaro, who had to share a room with him. And still the man slept. Right under a seemingly damaged part of the ceiling. That was definitively a recipe for disaster.

Okugi- it's what we desire.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The only person who didn't know about the man, lying in Keitaro's room, as we mentioned before, was Narusegawa Naru. Who inhabited the room above Keitaro's. She, for her own purposes, was seeing a tutor to decide whether or not it would be worth it to attempt to help her get into Tokyo U. But this tutor was no better than Keitaro in her mind, or even worse. At least Keitaro had the decency to try to hide the fact that he was most definitely trying to get a peek down Naru's shirt. Not so with this guy.

He clearly was taking every opportunity to do so. So after receiving a Naru Punch special (for those who don't know what that is imagine the most painful feeling you ever will, and multiply it by a thousand), which probably did some brain damage to the poor soul, she stormed off to waste a few hours stewing. She spent it doing various random acts, and yes did damage a few perverts along the way. Not that she minded. She needed some time to stew over the fact that she was a desired person only to creepy men, usually of the old variety, even if Keitaro was an exception to the age rule.

After cooling off for a while, she decided to return the Hinata Inns, and at least get upset about the incident at Kitsune for a while. However, when she returned, Kitsune was out somewhere. Probably getting drunk off whatever money she could weasel off people. Or spending it on nice stuff for herself. It didn't really matter. All that mattered was the fact that Kitsune wasn't in at the moment. Naru sighed. She probably wouldn't be in for another few hours. Only one thing to do. Lay in her room for awhile, until someone checks in on her to see if she was alright, or she gets over it.

Moving to the others, for a while, Motoko was off practicing her swordsmanship, Shinobu was cooking dinner, Su doing whatever Su does, Haruka cleaning somewhere, and Keitaro watching after the man in the bedroom. Of course word has not reached Naru yet about the man, but that will come later. For now, be contented with knowing this state of affairs being the one that descended over Hinata. And the man still lay there unconscious; his pulse was barely beating, and his eyes were unresponsive. Yet he continued living, for all that it was worth. His hat had been removed so they, they being Keitaro, could mop his head every once in a while, to keep a potential fever down, and keep him moderately clean.

They couldn't tell whether or not his immune system was shot, of course, but they did their best. Then all the problems began. Naru got bored with moping, and decided to visit her favourite pervert, Keitaro. Who at the moment was changing his shirt because it was wet from trying to wash the man's face. Who currently had no shirt on. So when Naru popped in on him, the reaction was inevitable.

"KEITARO YOU PERVERT! I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE INTO THAT! AND AT LEAST WHEN YOU SLIP SOMEONE THE DATE RAPE DRUG, HAVE THE DECENCY NOT TO BRING HIM BACK TO HINATA!" And none of Keitaro's protests could stop her. And Motoko came out of her usual nowhere to put a sword to Keitaro's throat. "So that was your plan was it? I guess I couldn't expect more from a perverted guy like you."

"You got it wrong! Oh so wrong!" And Su got involved, jumping on Keitaro's back calling him a pervert, again to Keitaro's dismay. Motoko and Naru chasing him, Shinobu hiding somewhere slightly, and Su on his back, no one noticed when the man groaned slightly, and coughed. Moving his head, and scratching his leg with his arms. He then fell silent again.

The rowdiness had caught up to Haruka, who put it down before it destroyed the Inn. She, however, beat Keitaro on the head with the daily newspaper for calling her 'Aunt Haruka.' And she explained the situation to Naru, who still believed that Keitaro was going to do perverted things to him. Just not as perverted as she originally thought. But the man passed from their mind, and was left in that room. Keitaro was doing work as the dorm manager, and none of the others could be bothered to take on such a task as looking after the man. So the man was left.

Zoom forward several hours. Keitaro had finished the work for the day. Most everyone had drifted to their rooms to catch some sleep, so after taking a quick, uninterrupted, bath, Keitaro went to his own room. That is when he noticed that the lonely man laying in his room was missing. After checking everywhere in his room, just to make sure he hadn't rolled off somewhere, a general cry of alarm arose among everyone. There was a general search of the Inn without, much success. And a much more careful examination revealed that he clearly wasn't in any room. However there was a problem.

This search had been segmented, with each person in their area of expertise. Everyone got their own room, and one extra area. Kitsune with the hotsprings, Shinobu the kitchen, Motoko the laundry area, Naru and Keitaro were given random areas. Haruka was sleeping, and didn't wake up to respond to the alarm. Now the problem that arose was that all but one returned from their area. That one was Shinobu. As the whole Inn took her in like their child, they were all up in arms about this. Each of them swearing to get the man if he hurt Shinobu, they stormed the kitchen, only to find the mysterious man on the floor, eating.

Shinobu, for her part, was cooking for him, and laughing, if nervously. As the group visibly relaxed, the man noticed their arrival. 'So you are the ones I have to be thankful for, for saving my life. For that I am truly grateful. But I have a question for you all. Who am I?'

The only response they could have was one of 'EHH?'

Okugi- It's what we desire.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Ehh!" The news just hit them that the mystery man had no idea who he was, or practically anything about himself. There was only stunned silence. He looked at them in wide eye innocence, probably feigned, not seemingly understanding why the silence existed. It was only after a few minutes that the most unlikely person broke the silence.

Su was the one that spoke up, half asleep and probably muttering to herself than anyone else, "Aren't you Okugi-San?" A general groan from the others as they heard that unintentional pun. Mr. Mystery. However Okugi took to the name instantly.

"Okugi. It's a nice name. I guess Okugi it is. I wonder if it is actually my name. Oh well, no time to worry over that. Instead I think I need some supplies. You," He pointed to Motoko, "I believe you have some bandages lying around somewhere. Can you please bring some? Next you," This time pointing at Kitsune, "Can you please bring me some alcohol? Shinobu?" She was the only one whose name he knew, "can you please pass me a knife? And you," This was pointed at Keitaro, "I need a stick that can act as a cane. Can you bring me one?" No one liked the fact that he was ordering, even though he asked in an extremely respectful tone, them to retrieve him something, but not knowing anything about him, they all went and did what he asked. Keitaro, for the cane, brought an old mop handle. Kitsune, for her part, warned him not to waste all of her sake.

"Thank you. Now if any of you are disturbed by horrific scenes of blood and screaming, I suggest you leave." Half way through that sentence, Shinobu left, muttering something about getting some more supplies. Okugi took his pant legs and used the knife to cut it off. He sighed, almost in disappointment, when he saw what was there. An old wound that had neatly healed, even if it was ugly to look at. He spoke softly. "Never mind. I guess I won't need anything but the bandages and the stick."

He quickly wrapped the leg in a bandage, and tossed it back to Motoko. "Now, you sir," talking to Keitaro. "Help me up, if you don't mind. And again, if no one minds, can I have a room for the night. I mean, I don't have anywhere else to go." Keitaro obliged him on picking him up, and promised that he could stay in his room for the night. They all introduced themselves to Okugi, just so it would be easier to communicate with.

That was the state of affairs of that night, and as Keitaro and Okugi tried to sleep, Keitaro asked him a question. "I was just wondering, but how did you decide who to ask to bring you what supplies? You could have asked us all, instead of individual people. I mean, it seemed deliberate, and calculating. Does this help you discover who you are?" Keitaro was asking this question, because the quicker he found himself, the quicker that this man would leave. Keitaro was not fond of change.

"I think this was the first two things I discovered of myself. I notice a lot, and I like to be an unbearable ass about it. I have an insatiable desire to flaunt it. I asked Motoko to bring me bandages for she is a swordsman. I could tell that much by her movements. Also she bandaged her chest," Keitaro's nose started dripping with blood slightly at the thought, "which meant that she had tape somewhere. Kitsune was drunk, but none of you thought it was strange. Thus she must be drunk often, and heavy drinkers usually have a stash somewhere, just in case all the bars were closed. Shinobu, I could tell, is the cook, so it would be natural for her to know where the knives are kept. And you are the only male I saw. Probably means it is an all girl dorm, but you must be some sort of manager. So, you'd probably know where brooms and mops were kept, which was the most likely source of a cane. Did that answer your question?" He didn't wait for a reply, but fell asleep instead.

Or pretended to. Instead, he had actually found a slip of paper in his pocket. Written in a language that he could not necessarily recognize. So late into the night, he analyzed it, trying to decipher his meaning. However, he couldn't. He couldn't tell if it was some half insane ramblings on his part or not. He fell asleep reading it. In the morning, after being basically demanded to eat breakfast with the Hinata roomers, he left.

However, this was not the end of Okugi's involvement with Hinata. Instead, it was just the beginning. For a few days later, he was back. It was early morning, (which constituted at this moment being 3:00 in the morning) exactly five days after he had left for the first time. No one noticed him, as no one was awake for a few hours. He just sat on the top step outside the apartment reading a seemingly short novel. Written in fifteen century Kanji. He sighed when finished before placing it in his top coat pocket. The bookmark that he used

The first one to notice him was Motoko, doing an early morning exercise. Thinking him of a prowler, she apprehended him (he was sleeping. What else do you expect when one is up at 3 in the morning and has to wait several hours for something?) The one to correctly identify him, however, was Su, again identifying his name when sleepy. "Isn't that Okugi-San? Did he bring something edible?" Which unfortunately he did not, and as such his hat suffered a few bite marks for it. Which in all honesty was something that the hat had probably endured before. His cane was spared, however. He had apparently made, it was too crude for it to have been bought, a wooden cane for himself based off the mop handle that Keitaro had given him.

Of course this did not improve his standings with Motoko in the slightest. Instead, she suspected him even more, based off the fact that he returned. His defense to these accusations, which she was not exactly quiet about was, "So if you don't know me, I'm a pervert. If you do know me, I'm a prowler. Am I ever innocent, or will I face the sword? Judge I have been found innocent, which of course is the worst crime of all." Motoko was not amused. Which she had every right to be, as Okugi's pride would not allow him to tell Motoko directly why he had returned. Instead he decided that he would rather wait for everyone to filter in for breakfast before speaking. Even Haruka was summoned for this guy's return.

He bowed deeply. "I am sorry to disturb you this early in the morning. You can be certain when I state that I had no real intention on returning. However, mitigating circumstances created the necessity of doing so. As I have been able to not find out who I am, I am also not capable of finding a job which can sustain me. So I must ask with the deepest sincerity and apology, whether or not I can live just outside these premises, for the short term?"

And for the second time in a week, a question that he asked came with the response of "Ehh?"

Okugi- It's what we desire.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**A/N(A note before we return to the story: It has been brought to my attention that in the chapter previous to this one, a sentence was cut off. Or technically a section, but no one besides me had a right to know that. I will write the sentence in here, and complete the sentence for you. 'The bookmark that he used was the slip of paper from before, the one which writings he could not decipher.' Thank you for putting up with an obvious error that is completely my fault. Now back to the story that I distracted from you for too long.)**

The last time we left off this story, our hero, Okugi (if you can call a, in the words of Motoko, 'lecherous old man who wishes to paw all the girls here', a hero) was asking for the ability to live outside of the Hinata dorms. We now return to see the reaction after the (soon to be cliché) chapter ending 'Ehh!'

The debate on this one was fierce. If one's definition of fierce is nobody really caring except for one, which, if you really haven't been paying attention to the story, was Motoko. But that was her style. Anything that did not fit her world view was to be seen as distracting, and thereby must be destroyed or incorporated. She quickly grabbed everyone by the collar, and dragged them slowly, (even though her strength was impressive to drag all those people at once. It would almost seem like this was a story rather than a retelling) into another room for a (in her mind) war council.

The first thing that was uttered out of her mouth once she had arranged them around the table in the fashion that she desired, keeping Keitaro close at hand in order to be able to slay him if necessary, but far enough away so he wouldn't contaminate her, was an emphatic, 'Absolutely not!' slamming her hands on the table loudly, as if it would prove one of her points. (For reference, Okugi is right outside the door, and can hear everything that is spoken above a few decibels. Which for further reference, thatreference that is a very quiet amountvery quiet, more quietere then a mouse. Bad Rhyme!.)

Su agreed at first, nodding her head like Motoko, even though a grin was on her face rather than a frown. 'Of course he shouldn't be allowed here. He didn't bring me any food, and he's no good for parts for my mechas! Can we go eat now?'

Shinobu picked up the conversation from that point, 'Su, you just ate breakfast!'

'Yes, it was yummy! But I'm still hungry!' With that Su started prancing around the table, in a pretend march. Her legs moved up and down rhythmically, while her voice repeated, 'Breakfast!' over and over, until the word mixed up in her mouth. At that point she was just saying incomprehensible gibberish. Shinobu, for her part, was taken out of the conversation by trying to stop Su by ,futilely may I add, waving her arms in above her head quickly and telling Su to stop.

The debate moved on without themr. Keitaro, although very reluctantly, was the first one to speak up in Okugi's favour. 'Why can't he stay, Motoko? I mean, he's not staying in the dorms, and he se-' His'His sentence was cut off when a soft snick of steel against a sword's sheath was emitted from Motoko's right side. That was abruptly followed by the cold that metal creates when being placed strategically against your neck with all the major veins being in immediate danger.

'Why do you want to help him Keitaro? Is he one of your perverts in arms? Or do you just have a natural tendency to view all men as to be protected?' She was quite menacing with the sword, and Keitaro had learned enough not to do anything until someone else helped him out.

The one to come to his aid this time, like most times, was Naru. 'Calm down Motoko. The guy outside, while I am not fond of him, hasn't done anything like Keitaro has done. I don't have any recollection of this guy grabbing at our chests or trying to steal a look at when we are in the hot springs.'

Motoko was quick on the uptake, and response. She swung her sword away from Keitaro to point at the door where Okugi was behind. 'If you don't think he is a pervert, then why did he ask specific people to bring him supplies? How did he choose? He must be spying on us?'

Keitaro tried to speak to defend Okugi, but not even uttering a sound before the sword was back at his throat, making his protest a croak. He crawled back several feet, and sat as far as possible from Motoko, trying not to be the target of her sword, valuing his own life over the homelessness of Okugi. Which was a decision that, frankly, most of us would make. Especially in the face of a swordswoman. A swordswoman who is temperamental,temperamental and very prone to acting irrationally faced with certain situations. Also the strongest of all her schools disciples. Or at least one of the strongest. We can agree that he made the right decision.

Let us return to Okugi, the man who started this mess, and get a window into his mind and soul. At the time that Motoko threatened Keitaro the second time, he was laughing. Laughing at the apparent funniness of the situation, in which Keitaro's life was in danger. Gives a whole new meaning to the old manly saying of laughing in the face of danger, for he added the tidbit of: someone else's danger. And this wasn't nervous giggling. This was all out tears rolling down the side of his face laughing. But the ruckus inside made it so they couldn't hear him, probably prolonging the discussion (for who really wants to live near someone who laughs at others misfortune?). And before they finished, he was able to calm himself down, this time building, piece by lonely piece, a tower of sticks and pieces of junk lying on the ground. Which he would knock over several times, for the apparent joy of it. Then would rebuild it.

But there was a calculation to all of his actions. He would intentionally choose times to knock them over, when they no longer were precariously swinging in the wind, but instead only could be extended upwards, for there was no need to shore up the sides. It was the same with the laughing. It was intentional laughing, as if someone expected him to laugh, rather than laughing for the sake of laughing, or amusement. There was no joy behind any of the actions, only cold, hard calculations. It was as if he had to survive based on the protection that fools give, of not being worthy of note. He was regressing back into that state. It could have been because the gay lover, who may or may not have existed and may or may not have beat Okugi up, that is invariably is mentioned probably wasn't too fond of smart people.

But now let us refocus on those who were debating about the cold, calculating man's immediate future. The debate by this moment was still focused on Motoko's ranting about how this man, who was a representative of all men, was a pervert who had to be restrained. The sword was placed away for the moment, even though everyone knew that it could come up again. To recap the other's involvement, Su was still doing her little march around the table, and Shinobu was still trying to stop it. Kitsune had also entered the debate, her position being that another person to milk for money is good enough reasoning for her. Especially if he knew how to get sake. Naru and Keitaro were mum, for different reasons. Naru because she probably didn't care at all for the man., and Keitaro for fear of the sword.

And that was how it stood until finally someone spoke rationally about it. The only person left, Haruka. Whose only legitimate reason for speaking up was that all the chattering was stopping her from enjoying the morning paper. 'My vote is to let him stay. He will live outside, and Motoko can watch him if anyone feels that he is a danger. I'm now going to go now.' She got up and left, leaving all slack jawed in her leaving. But on her way out, she gave Okugi a disgusted look, to suggest that this whole event sickened her. Which in a way it did.

Okugi, mistaking the signals that Haruka directed at him, picked himself up. He methodically wiped off particles of dust from his pants, moving up to his shirt, then his jacket. Every piece of dirt he could find was brushed off. Limping slightly (the wound was still affecting him), he was only stopped from walking out of the door by Kitsune, who was watching the actions with interest. "Honey, you don't have to go. We're letting you stay on our lawn for a while. Just while you get things cleaned up. But don't expect a welcoming party.'

Okugi just smiled at her kindly, and left for several hours, returning sometime during the night. All the inhabitants, who carried on with their lives as if this strange man wasn't going to be living on their lawn, would find out is that sometime in the middle of the night, he would place up his tent, and it would be a permanent structure of their lawn for many a months.

Okugi- It's what we desire.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

We begin this story a few days after Okugi moved onto the lawn of the Hinata Inn. His life in the tent had been uneventful thus far; his job search unsuccessful. Not that he seemed to care. Instead, he seemed to put little effort to find a job; coming back at night to spend some time reading in his tent, always expressing dissatisfaction to those who asked. Even though very few people did. His clothes were in good enough condition for people outside the Inn to believe that he had a job, and within the Inn, it was accepted that the residents should speak to him as little as possible. He was an outsider, and worse; he didn't contribute anything to them.

Not that most cared much, as long as he stayed out of their way during all times and stuck to his lawn. But, of course, that was hard to do. They were still sharing steps during some times of the day, and they had only to look outside to be reminded his presence. And it should have remained like that, in all probability, for the actions taken that Sunday.

There needs to be background given on what happened that day, for it wouldn't make much sense. There are two facets of this: first the hot springs, and secondly the job search. How the hot springs relate to this can be explained by how those hot springs works. Even though the hot spring itself was all natural, it still needed some sort of outer shell to stop it from leaking, which would have caused structural problems for the Inn itself, as the Inn was constructed of wood (and of course wood and water don't mix).

However, for a while, the hot springs shell was not fully working properly. It had a few holes in it, from that most deadly of things: time, and was leaking moderate amounts of water. However, there was little they could do to combat it. Instead, they just let it leak. Not that couldn't combat it. There were quite a few people living there who could do the job, but it was lack of resources. Money was, as usual, tight, and any actions they could take against it was in the fact that that their supplies were nonexistent. So instead, they managed to deal with the fact, bailing out the water every now and then, doing stop gap methods. And it worked. As limitedly as working could constitute as.

Now the job search must be taken into consideration. He had declared to himself that Sunday was a day of rest, for (in whatever demented reasoning he uses), 'I made her in six days, I can rest on the seventh.' Whatever he was referring to, he wouldn't say. So using this logic, he extrapolated it to include job search on his day of rest. The only thing he planned to do was apparently fish. No one paid attention to him (if anyone heard him at all), for it would be practically the same. He would leave early in the morning, and come back late at night.

Oh, how wrong they were. This was discovered early in the morning. Okugi was sitting in the hot springs fishing. And if that wasn't ridiculous enough, he wore a gaudy straw hat, was wearing overalls, and was using his cane as the rod part of the word: fishing rod. So most people's first reaction was not one of fury at the man who was fishing were they bathe, but instead it was of laughter and confusion over this funny looking man who happened to be fishing in their hot springs.

Then the anger set in. But no one, however, was certain on their ability, or even desire, to approach this man, each for their own reasons. Motoko would have nothing to do with him, Shinobu and Su were definitely out of the question (Shinobu for her anxiety, and Su because she would probably offer to help him), Naru wanted to go out there and get rid of him but was convinced to let more peaceful methods happen first, and Keitaro was Keitaro and frankly only did things because he was too scared not to. But, after a while, they felt that they had to try to get him out (and hopefully out of their lives).

There first go to method was a conciliatory approach (which in the world of Hinata Inn meant sending Keitaro to try to kick this guy out). Keitaro went out, shaking at the knees. He had no true desire to become confrontational, but the arguments of potential fists and swords shook him out of his misery. He approached slowly, trying to delay this as much as possible. Of course, however, the universe is finite (or at least Earth is), and he eventually made it to the other side.

Okugi, by this point, was still as he was this morning. Looking down his fishing rod, (which for whatever reason had a little video screen attached to it) he sat in complete concentration. It took him a few minutes to even acknowledge Keitaro's presence, and even then it was just a slight nod in his direction. Keitaro took that as permission to speak. 'Okugi –san,' he was the only one of the Inn to even speak to him using the respectful San, if they ever spoke to him, 'can you please fish elsewhere?'

Okugi took his time answering this question, even if he didn't think about it for long. 'No.'

Keitaro was taken aback. He clearly had not expected that answer. Stuttering to find his ground (metaphorically. Literally he was on very stable ground), he finally came up with a response. 'B-but, there are no fish in the Hot Springs. '

'I know.'

'Then why do you want to fish here?'

'Because I desire to. It's comfortable and close.'

'But you won't catch anything!'

'So? Most people never do.'

'But at least they have a chance! You don't!'

Okugi repeated himself, 'So?'

Keitaro took that as a sign to give up, and return defeated. With his head down in his chest, he walked back in shame. He thought of how the girls would think of him, and sighed, depressed. They would ridicule him for this. He was sure of it. Only if he could gain a victory somehow. He didn't want to resort to physical violence, he didn't want to go back defeated. Turning around, he strutted back up to Okugi. He puffed out his chest, and spoke imperiously, 'I'm asking you to leave one more time, and if you don't I will have to use force.'

Okugi didn't respond. He just sat there, fishing. Keitaro, whose courage was failing by the minute, made a last ditch effort to try and actually do well, giving himself the imagination of him as the stud he has always wanted to be. This (the attempt, not the imagination; which frankly you don't want to know about) took the form of standing on top of one of the rocks to stare down Okugi. At that point, he was standing on one of the rocks, towering over Okugi, who was looking down his video monitor again. He folded his arms across his chest, probably to convey that he meant business. This was a bad idea.

For the arms moved his center of gravity, slightly, shifting his weight distribution, which shifted the rock, which caused it to tumble over, causing him to fall face first into the hot springs. What caused it? It seemed that the rock was placed along the hot springs shell. It was securely anchored there for a long time, having a resting spot. But something caused the rock to shift out of place, creating the situation necessary for the rock to collapse with the weight shift.

And still Okugi sat there. Keitaro was eventually able to get out of the water (being immortal) but he didn't even offer a helping hand. Just fished. Just stared down the video camera. Just kept as still as possible. Just was as unreadable as possible.

This, obviously, ticked off several people at the Inn. Not only did he not do anything to help Keitaro, he was also unreasonable, obstinate, and probably an asshole, who had no belief in the goodness of others. The person whose reaction was the worst to the news was Naru, who stomped around for a while, telling herself that she should just kill him, for he was no good. She was waving her arms like crazy, and was speaking quite loudly. Kitsune, for her part, offered to help bury the body.

The one to actually act, however, was Su. She just went outside, stood leaned her body on the rock that Okugi sat. And instead of offering to help, she asked, 'Why are you fishing here Okugi? You don't need to do that. There are no fish here, trust me, I've looked.' Those words seemed to make Okugi cognizant of his surroundings once more.

He spoke quietly. 'I guess I was fishing for nothing.' With that he got off his rock, shook himself off, and meandered off to his tent. The fishing line, for whatever reason, had no hook on it. Instead it was just a dangling string, attached to a cane. Just one more eccentricity to add to this man. He still had his pronounced limp when he walked. Su had gone back to tell the others that the funny man wasdone fishing. When passing the inhabitants (who were huddled close together worried that he might do something) he looked at them, and spoke, 'I got a job. I'll be an engineer at a place nearby. Apparently my technical skill impressed them enough not to care that I don't know who I am. I'll be moving into my own place once I have the money. I'll be starting tomorrow. Thank you for letting me stay.' He, however, seemed so sad that it almost loosened Motoko's and Naru's resolve to kill him. Almost.

What was he so sad about? No one could tell, but the overall consensus was that he was sad because he was unable to earn a job for being Okugi, but for something that he had learned in his past that he couldn't remember.

But the true shock of this story came a few days later. He was off at his job, repairing things for other people. And Keitaro was checking the hot springs shell to make sure there were no more holes to contend with. What he found surprised him. Instead of the holes that existed, he could see that the holes were welded in, from the inside. They never could have figured out who did it, or how. But for Keitaro's part, he always had a sneaking suspicion that Okugi had done it. But when asked, Okugi denied knowing that there were even holes in it. But that mere fact raised his standing in the Inn from hated creature that must be a lecher, to someone that we are all indifferent to. If one can call that a promotion.

And he stayed. Even though he was supposed to leave after he had enough money, he never seemed to be able to achieve that amount. Instead, he lived in that tent, doing odd jobs around the house, if just for the reason that they held his ability to house himself in the immediate future. He was not wonderfully charming to them, but neither was he sullen and angry. He was just respectful, if arrogant and an asshole. But those aren't the worst things to be, now are they?

Okugi-It's what we desire.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Before we move on with the story, an outline of the daily life of Okugi, as seen in the eyes of members of the Hinata Inn must be seen. This is that story, Okugi as he moves throughout his life.

Okugi lived in a semblance of comfort and isolation during his days as an electrical engineer, despite having no money. He was still the distant and foreboding man as before, and was able to upgrade his tent (promising that it cost no money to do so, for he was still scrimping and saving). He was able to, on occasion, wrangle some food from Hinata, by offering to do odd jobs, or just by appealing to their (their in this situation is reserved for Shinobu, and Shinobu only) basic kindness to all of living creatures. Playing on this, he would approach Shinobu with some offer of decency. And he would be fed. It seemed that he was only living off of this for the first few weeks, as he grew thinner (which gave him an emaciated look, rather than a skinny one). But this phase passed, giving him a more meat on the body, putting him at the stage of being as skinny as a rat once more. Thus, he managed to survive.

Yet he was discontent, or at least seemed to be. On Sunday's- the day that he as an off day- he would travel out all day. It would be during the night that he returned, usually too late for any of them to be awake. His sleep was seemingly nonexistent, being awake before anyone else (having to leave for his job at extremely early hours, or at least Okugi claimed), and no one ever saw him sleeping. His eyes were heavily bagged, at least suggesting that he did actually sleep. And the scars on his arms, when he bared his arms to be seen by others, had grown, if incrementally. The fact remained that an overall effect was an increase, slowly creeping up his arms, giving him the look of a battle hardened veteran. If only he was a buff soldier, like the others. Then maybe he wouldn't have been scorned by his ex-gay lover.

But we turn to his emotional state. He was, as we mentioned before, his usual self, most of the time. And at certain times, he seemed in euphoria. Extreme euphoria. He was cognizant, yet jubilant, conversant, and even pleasant to the residents. He was still mistrusted when he was his usual sarcastic, self-depreciating, snarky self, and the joy and activity that he showed during these other times were also treated with a mark of suspicion. Why was he different from during these times than others? Of course, the most common belief was drugs, at least from those who have heard this story. Yet no evidence was found, yet that did not mean it wasn't true. Okugi, if nothing else, as demonstrated before, was smart. It was clearly within his capabilities to hide the evidence of his drug usage if he so desired.

His life was also marked by another shadow; this one took its form in the shape of his physical health. He was seen to vomit frequently. There was potentially blood, even though no one was able to get a good enough look at it. There was a rash around his nose, which he could be seen as constantly scratching away at it. He suffered frequent sweats; sweats which brought his body down shivering, drew out his face, and made him seem pale, even more so than he already was. Yet, these were short lived; all of what was described above was uncommon. Only about 3 days of a month would be spent in the euphoria, two days in sweats. Only the vomiting and rash were constant plagues of his, yet they were not usually present among the interactions of the others. Instead, the main interaction were those of him that of his usual state.

It is unknown if this was unremarked upon by the Hinata Inn residents. Each, probably, had their own private thoughts about it. Yet they did not discuss him. It was not that they dared not discussed him; they just were never in the stage where he was to be discussed. At the beginning, they wished if that they ignored him, he would go away. Then it went to the acceptance stage. He was not discussed, for he did not need to be discussed. What would they talk about? He was so removed from their lives that they cared little.

Yet, curiosity about him did grow over time, as it was bound too. He still, when questioned, didn't know anything about himself. The clothes he wore (which were still the clothes that he arrived in) told no tale, except that of their abuse and that of being well worn. His hat told the most, and that could only tell that the hat was from a store called 'Barnum's Hats.' They could not locate it. The seeming lack of money also played a role. Where was he spending money? And why couldn't he afford better clothes?

These questions were asked, yet never answered. Okugi was tight lipped on these facts, and when pressed, would escape through some sense of trickery. And by the time that two months had passed, he was still as much of a mystery as the day he had walked into their lives. Their gains of knowledge had been few, and insignificant in detail. And still, he was no longer reviled by them. He had passed, in all of their minds, from person not to care about, to person who they acknowledge exists, yet they still wouldn't become friendly with. It was as if, he was able to become invisible in people's lives, hiding among it and not be a major factor. He just lived in his tent, and passed through life invisibly.

And that was the life of Okugi, the man of mystery. He was passing through, living his life as a normal person does. He lived in his little bubble (with no more fishing incidents to pass the time for the inhabitants), and lived in it remarkably well. He meshed with others lives by existing almost outside it, yet was always there. Advice was offered, time passed, and he was accepted. Yet the discontentment remained.

Now we move onto the defining moment of the story. The one that will cause the coming of the rest of the story. The reason that Okugi is spoken of in past tense rather than present. The man who, much like Okugi, wandered into their lives for one moment, yet unlike Okugi, passed out of it quite quickly. The story is coming to a head, yet a break must be put here, in order for the story not to shift too quickly. However, a quick word of warning. The humor of this story will end for a partial way lay. The following story is neither humorous, nor is it easy to relay in a humorous light. The humor may return, yet it will be marred with darkness. If only life was a comedy, then maybe people would have better lives. The blow, hopefully, will be softened by saying this. Yet it might come hard. Let us just say that you've been warned: There be Monsters in these waters.

For the truth behind everything is coming to the light, as it every truth must. And, paradoxically, using this logic, only one mantra can be lived by:

Okugi- It's what we desire.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

As mentioned previously, this is the beginning of the end. But the only way to move forward, is to look to the past, and the only way to get to the end is to see something that does not happen at Hinata, but instead in Tokyo, two month's to Okugi's arrival to Japan. And there we will begin.

**Tokyo, two months prior to Okugi's arrival:**

A plane landed from Britain. One of those flights filled with business(wo)men, the occasional tourists, and maybe one or two Japanese people who were returning to their homeland. The flight, in itself, was unremarkable. So were most of the passengers. But one man on that flight was different. Instead of being a mere tourist, he was instead an immigrant, one of those people who give up their traditional lives in order to make a new life in a different part of the world. And the part of the world that he chose was Japan.

The man, to describe him in as few words as possible, was beautiful. That was all one could say about him. If you placed him side by side with Okugi, then Okugi would seem like a diminutive, little, impotent man. This man was tall, graceful, strong (but not overly buff), of an indeterminable race (so everyone would approve of him), and had a glowing smile (that would melt most hearts), soft features (yet looked rough enough around the edges to be seen as edgy and dangerous), and dark, mysterious eyes. And the eyes were the only indication as to his true nature. Unreadable, untouchable, and no glint of anything, but hardness. No hatred, love, compassion, or anger. They just fit the purpose of being there to see. It was as if he was a well made construct, with all of his grace; that just missed the final touch to convince people that he was alive, instead of something inhuman which isn't alive.

Not that any but the most perceptive could tell this, as they were attracted to his other features instead. Yet, the odd man, the ones who had true sight could see. Yet they weren't afraid of him. Those who could see some of his true nature couldn't tell whether or not he was a good man, or a despicable person. They believed him to be neither, just enigmatic. So he went on his way. Leaving the airport, to go in search of a hotel. He would not be able to move into the apartment he had selected for two days, which suited him perfectly. It was ample time to do some sightseeing of Tokyo, a city that was long admired by this man. So, finding the closest decent hotel to stay at, he paid for one night in advanced. And the name he placed down, if one is able to penetrate the scrawling of the cursive in which the man wrote in, was a simple, if odd, one (written in true Western style): Dervin Hask.

But the night was Hask's time. That night, he was given his seeming first taste of the Japanese night life. And he adored it. His main places of attack were bars. Drinking his fair share, and then some, he was able to successfully flirt with anyone that came within a few meters of him. He made it clear that he swung every way. And this was on his first night frequenting these places. His Japanese was perfect, immaculate to a T. Making another comparison with Okugi on this point, even though both of their Japanese's were perfect, Okugi's was outdated, almost something that one would find in a textbook of teaching Japanese to new comers, or if one traveled to the past and spoke to Emperors and Shoguns. Hask's was more contemporary, much more informal, and appealing to those who lived in the cities of an everyday basis.

Now it was apparent, by the time he reached his fifth bar, that he was enamored. He had gathered a small party to go bar hopping with him, and one of them was a young pretty girl. She had light brown hair, and all the hallmarks of being young; that of clear skin, clear eyes, and a ready smile on her face. She was short, but her height had no bearing on her prettiness. While not being beautiful, for beauty is not for the young, she was extremely pretty. Pretty enough to get people to spend their wallet's contents on her. Her age seemed to be nineteen, even though in reality she was sixteen, with a fake identification. And these were not the places in which they checked identification too closely, especially to young pretty females. Her name also suggested prettiness, at least to non-Japanese ears, Shiina. And Hark drew her in. Even though enamored was not quite the word one would use to describe her perception of him, it was clear that she was heavily attracted to him, and would not refuse him much. This duality settled, and most bars closing, Hask, playing the perfect gentleman, offered to take her home, and offer that she readily accepted. They caught a cab, and gave it her address.

And she was drunk. He was seemingly clear minded, but she was drunk. Unable to tell right from left, or up from down. This will have a bearing on the next few events. For he would help her out of the cab, which was right next to an alleyways, and paid the fare. As the cab drove away, they headed down this alley, him supporting her weight as she was stooped over trying to keep her balance and not vomit at the same time. A few moments later a young woman screamed. No one went to see if there was a problem. Indeed, it is unsure if anyone heard that scream, or if anyone registered it besides the usual sounds of the night. The scream faded out quickly enough, anyways, slipping away as if a drug had moved this person from the world of the conscious to the world of dreamers. And slightly over twenty minutes later, Hask left the alleyway. Blood was slowly dripping from his hand, and he smiled. A true smile, not one that was only designed to suit a purpose. He walked back to the hotel at which was staying, for he was in a good mood.

Shiina's disappearance went a few days unnoticed, as she lived on her own for four days of the week. Once it was noticed, a general alarm was called, and a missing person noticed went out. Yet she was never found, as one back alley in a poor district of Tokyo was never checked. In the end, no one checked that spot. In the end, all that was left of her was a yellow folder, with the heading of Kaga Shiina, missing presumed dead. That one folder was all that was left of the poor girl in this world. And Hask had moved on.

**Tokyo, two months later:**

Hask was sitting at a café, drinking some herbal tea. He had found himself a nice job with a corporation as a pen pusher. The pay was well enough for him to live and he himself was comfortable. He was still doing weekend bar drinking, but had toned it down in recent times, in order to live within his means. He was not in a relationship, which suited him fine. That alley of his was visited frequently by him, as well. And more missing person's reports piled up, only to have them end up in the same pile as Shiina's. Of course, a pattern was being noticed, yet even the top detectives couldn't figure it out. And therefore, it was always chalked up to one of those mysteries. But that is not the point of this day. This was the day that Hask felt, felt as one feels a shirt-unnoticeable, yet there-, a tremor. A very brief one, that lasted under a second. Yet he knew that tremor, recognized it as one recognizes a tremor. A smile flickered over his face, and he paid his bill. The next day, he quit his job, and pulled on the quite large cash reserves that he had piled away from his previous life, left. He traveled all across Japan, no doubt seeking that tremor. And he searched relentlessly.

**Hinata Inn, 8 months later:**

Hask, his usual impeccable self, had finally reached his destination. Or so he believed. He had done all of his searching, and this location was the last likely source in Japan. Or at least around this area. But he would find it, he was certain of it. As Okugi was on one of his frequent trips (even though he was slated to return later that day), the first person to meet him was Kitsune. Seeing him, she ran up behind him, looped her arm around his, and offered to go bar hopping with him. Politely declining while shaking her off, he asked to speak the manager, and was bid welcome. Mounting the steps, slowly, you could hear his polished shoes hitting the steps, one by one. Click clack, click clack. Their relentless beat only stopped when he had finished his climb.

And the members of Hinata, who had on their own gathered to see this, had a flashback as they saw the man bow in sarcastic respect, even if the sarcasm was hard to place. And he spoke, with a deep voice that suggested his power and need to be respected. 'Hello, my name his Hask Dervin,' (he at least had picked up that custom during his time in Japan), 'and I am here to report that it is my belief that you are harboring a dangerous man, even though it is probably against your knowledge. His name would be, if he gave you one (and he uses many mind you, this might not be his real one) Hark David. He is a tall, gaunt man, and doesn't look very impressive. He's pale beyond belief, and has a mass of black hair on his head. He is knowledgeable and sarcastic, as well as dressing in an odd manner, usually with a fedora. Probably has an imperious attitude as well. He probably uses a cane to walk, or if he doesn't, he definitely limps. He may seem friendly, but is extremely dangerous. He is probably addicted to a drug, or multiple drugs, even though it is unknown which ones he would be addicted to. He may have even attempted to sell you some. His crimes range from mass murder to theft to jaywalking. Any more specific and the list gets quite extensive. Does this sound like anyone living in your household?'

The physical description brought up mental images of Okugi. Who, with the luck of the devil and the magical timing of Dickens, managed to walk in half way through his description. 'Well at least I have a name now. I'm not really sure on the other things. Am I the man you're looking for?'

The voice caused a smile, again genuine, to spread over Hask's lips. He could tell, even without looking, that the answer was yes. But he turned to make sure he wasn't confused. The movement was intentionally to build up suspense in his mind, as first his head moved, slightly before the body did so. The smile grew even larger as he saw that he was not mistaken. 'Well yes you are. And I must say that it was pretty difficult to track you down. You must be commended, this is the longest we haven't been face to face in an arena this small. So here I must give you a proper congratulation.' The smile on his face became maniacal, as he dashed quickly towards Okugi (even though his name could be Hark, for the sake of storytelling, it will remain Okugi), seemingly teleporting, and whipping out a small knife, which was easily hidden in his pants pockets, he stabbed down towards Okugi's arm. Okugi's reaction time was to be commended as well. He was able to block his body with the cane, causing only a few splinters of paint to harmlessly bounce of his shirt.

But Hask just tsked. 'You've grown foolish of late. You used to have some wonderful counter attack, now you just leave yourself open to a knife wound like the one you have in your side.' Which was the truth. Blood was seeping out of his left side, where a knife was embedded, right below his lowest limb. Collapsing, he gasped in pain, a life of hiding everything from everyone finally came out. The blood pooled on the wood, slowly, as he pulled out the knife, before fainting. Motoko took over the fight here, drawing her katana and beating Hask, who had his task completed anyways, away. Fifteen minutes later, she returned with the news that she had lost him. The only reaction to any of the above events that anyone else had was their favourite syllable, 'Ehhh?'

And still Okugi laid on the ground, fainted, and again in Hinata's care.

Okugi- It's what we desire.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**The months following Hask's sudden appearance (and subsequent disappearance):**

Okugi had recovered, for as much as he would have done anyways. The Hinata residents did have to take him to the hospital, for the wounds and bleeding was beyond their usual control. Two days later, with bandages wrapped around his waist, he returned to his tent, which for whatever reason had been moved to a different corner of the Hinata Apartments front. And his search began. He had quit from his job (if he ever had one; a fact that was in doubt itself), but his travels did not stop. In fact, his travels increased. He would disappear for weeks. And yet no one cared. It was like usual, and his traveling did not affect them, except for the oddities that came out of it.

What was he searching for? A translation. A translation for the little note that he had left himself. A note for what little he had of his past. It was more than a goal. It was more than a search. It was an attempt to find himself. To find that man who had inhabited his body at one point. It was a consuming goal, taking whatever time he had for other things, and forced it onto this task. The note itself was written in a language he recognized, but couldn't read. And he was searching for that language; to see if he could find that last hope he had for himself. And it was an expansive search.

He seemed to have left Japan, and started searching across the Asian continent. Items traditional to India and Nepal seemed to appear, Chinese goods were not infrequent. South East Asia was not spared from his presence. And the things that he gathered increased. Spices, herbs, medallions, scars, and weapons. They all gathered around him as if he was a fine connoisseur of these items, instead of a man on a quest. The spices and herbs he gave to the Hinata kitchen. The medallions and guns were pawned for petty coins. The scars he bore as a reluctant memory of his journey.

This pattern endured, while more of his skills were shown off. It was shown that besides being a skilled mechanic, he was also a skilled computer programmer, and healer. The former was revealed when he was found creating a program to increase ease of use, and learns from the user in order to adapt to their wishes. When asked, he said he was creating it for a client, even though his group of known associates was in the single digits. The second was when he was able to set a broken bone coming around from a street fight that was occurring near the Hinata Apartments, with relative ease. When asked why he didn't use these techniques on himself to at least relieve the illness that it was clear he was suffering, he didn't answer and was (more than usual) silent on the topic.

And his one compassion was shown. One who looked out for himself first, it was shown that he had an unusual soft spot for children. Anytime that he came within fifty feet of a child who was having a problem, he would solve it, no matter how silly it seemed. This was the hypothesized reasoning of why he got along with Shinobu the best. (Of course it wasn't hypothesized in front of her, because the idea that she was still a child would probably upset her). And on this topic, he was most reticent on, just giving a sad little smile, and shaking his head. He would protest that he had other compassions; ones that he just couldn't remember (of course deflecting the question in the meantime).

And all the while, his search became more pressing. He was returning from such places as Russia, the Middle East, and even heading to Central Europe. And still he couldn't find an answer. The one truth he looked for, he couldn't find. Depression set upon him, yet he was able to keep his calm. It was during this descent that the residents found out about his quest.

Even though he had been coming back for a while with the strange things, there was little thought about it. He might have just enjoyed Chinese goods that would be easily attainable (or at least knock offs would). As his gatherings became more exotic, they were put into greater question. Yet there was still little thought of it, and he continued his steady progression. It was a map that set them off on their current path. During one of his journeys, it was Keitaro who stumbled upon an old, battered, torn map (which had carelessly slipped out of Okugi's tent). Across its surface where markings, X's, questions, illegible scribbling that probably could have only been deciphered by Okugi, meditations, and ?'s. One thing they gathered was that these were the places that he had visited.

Thus the speculation began. Where was he going? To save his gay lover, who had not beat him but been kidnapped? As an assassin to hunt down world leaders and stop them in whatever name he was fond of crying? To find terrorist leaders and bring them to justice? The theories were used and discarded, with the prevalent theory changing every time someone thought of a better one. Of course Okugi didn't help the situation by denying commenting on it when confronted. He just shook his head and asked for his map back. This did not satisfy anyone, except maybe Okugi.

But one event put this game to an end. One resident finding the note Okugi wrote to himself. That was all it took. Once that event occurred, the rest of the events fell like dominos, to create what happened. To close the chapter on all their lives, that was only important to one person among them. Who was that person, who could radically change events? Su. Kaolla Su found the note, again a careless oversight by Okugi. But this was different from all other things he studied. There was not a mark on it. Nothing. All that it consisted of was the words he had hurriedly written to himself.

She picked up the piece of paper, wrinkled and yellowed before its time, by the abuse of living with Okugi (a fate shared by all of his things). A thin layer of dust seemed to have gathered in the short time that it had been left there. Su scrunched her eyes at the piece of paper, holding it close to her face. A smile spread over her face, as she ran over to speak to, of all people, Okugi himself.

'Okugi, I didn't know you knew Sumerian! But isn't this an odd dialect? I mean, I don't recognize the words. By the way, is it edible?' Only Okugi's quick reflexes could save the piece of paper.

And faced with the fact that he had been outclassed, that someone had information before him, he uttered the only syllable he could before his throat dried up from pains of recognizing someone's superiority, and the recognition of his closeness to his goal. That syllable, spoken from a place of true humility and tenderness, was 'Ehh?'

Okugi- It's what we desire.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9- The Final Curtain

We are coming to an end of the story. There is only this section to tell, that of knowledge, and that of discovery. So here we shall lay down the story of knowledge, for knowledge must precede discovery. For once having learned the language or origin (and not even bothering to check how Su knew the language- hint: the language of Mol Mol and Sumer are very similar), Okugi went out of his way to translate. His work consumed him, and he was no longer even pretending to be friendly. Books were bought; large sheets of paper with possible translations were used up. But no one was consulted. Even Su, the one who informed him of the language, was not asked. This was his task and his task alone. No one could help with the task, and he did not seek it.

And the man wasted away, if ever so slowly. Food would only be consumed once a day, and even then just enough to keep himself alive. He didn't exercise, and his clothing, usually in a state of perpetual disrepair, fell into unusable for everyday use. His limp, which had been on the path of healing during his time at Hinata, became extremely noticeable again. In fact, it was practically impossible for him to walk distances that spanned more than a few meters without his cane. And with his cane he couldn't make the distance without signs of being in pain. He lived in a state of squalor, with only minimalistic attempts to clean up around him, and to keep himself healthy. During his translation phase, he had become sick through infection several times, all of which could have been avoided if he had bothered to maintain some form of living standard. His other ailments that were mentioned previously became more frequent. All of them increased except the happiness. The happiness disappeared at an alarming rate. The only thing that was seemingly keeping him alive was his force of will, his pure desire to survive through this trial, through this journey.

And he fell out of the minds of Hinata residents. As he withdrew from life, in order to discover the life that he had, they stopped caring about him. He was a ghost to them, the man who was dying twice in their arms, and who would disappear at great lengths. He stopped even bothering asking for food, apparently finding other sources. What those sources were it is hard to tell; his perpetual lack of money, however, pushed them in favour of the theft route, when they thought about it years later. For ghosts never truly leave the mind of people, they just sit there, hiding, waiting to come out eventually when you are most susceptible to it. And he was that type of specter. The type in which they always questioned whether or not they did the right deed in helping him. They were sure that they would have done it again, as that is how human nature goes, but they were uncertain on whether or not the man was slightly deranged.

But they needed not worried, at least for the time he lived there. He made no moves on them and a few months later (seemingly occurring in the middle of the night) he was gone. His time of discovery had begun, where he had the knowledge to seek the self. It took them a while to notice what had happened, for it was not something added that had not been there before. Nor was it something missing that they actively used. Instead, it was something that was always there, but never used, that had gone missing. It was tugging at the corner of their eyes, before they all realized, independently, what had happened. All that remained of him was the final translation of the note, lying in the dirt where his tent used to be. It was perfectly cleaned up, with no markings that suggested anyone had ever lived there. The note (once cleaned up into to decent grammatical structure) read, as follows:

_Hello again. (I've paused so I can answer and actually have a conversation with myself). I guess I was able to remember my knowledge of languages. Or at least find someone who recognized Drethactian Sumerian. Or a mixture of the two. Even though whoever would know that in this day and age is beyond me. But, as I write this, I can feel it. I am forgetting. Forgetting most of who I am, and why I am here. Too long to explain why I am actively forgetting, but I know that I will want to find myself. That is why I put this list, a list of people and places that I will have to travel to discover myself. I may end up failing in this task, or I might succeed. My bet is that I will fail. But I know myself. And I won't be satisfied until I have actively tried to do so. So good luck (no matter how self serving that seems). Oh and one last note, I may notice myself not having sexual attraction to anyone around me. That is normal for me. Most of the time. Oh forget it. Just know that I am aromantic asexual. Trust me. Just go with the flow. Also, if you need some money and are looking for a job, your skills lie in computer programming, engineering, and robotics. Again, just in case you have cash flow problems when trying to get to your intended designations. But the list! I forgot about that! Here it is, just in case:_

The rest of the note had been torn off. Now debate began on whether or not it was real. It seems too much to write for what was obviously a hurried scribble. Also, did this form of language have all those words in it? Was that even a real dialect of Sumerian? And no conclusion could be made of it. They spun arguments, turned them upside down, but there was no answer in their minds. Nothing was exceptional about it. In the end, they just agreed to leave it be, as it referred to someone who was out of their lives for good. So why should they care? And back to their daily lives they went.

Only one more note about Okugi in this story: a few weeks after his sudden disappearance, one Hinata resident found him, accidentally of course, in a bar. The actual resident was undisclosed, but let us just say that it seemed like they frequented bars, if that tells you anything. She was there getting some R&R from her self-reported hard work that she had done, and just happened to notice Okugi sitting in the corner, not drinking anything, but conversing. Okugi was conversing with, of all people, Hask. Instead of trying to kill each other, they were talking quite amicably, with little animosity in their voices. She was able to overhear on snippet of this conversation, which has been recorded faithfully word for word here:

Okugi: 'You're name, ironically, came up on the list.'

Hask: 'Makes sense. I mean, I do hold most of your secrets. Even if we're playing the game against each other most of the time.'

Okugi: 'The game? What is that?'

Hask: 'You're game. The one that you played with everyone because you are a Manipulative Bastard.'

Okugi: 'Well I may be a bastard, but isn't everyone else?'

Hask: 'Now that is very you. Rationalization and Justification. I may be a sadist, but at least I don't fool myself. You're old motto was, 'Humans may be bastards, but it doesn't really matter because everyone else is to.''

Okugi: 'I'm not fooling myself either.'

Hask: 'Yes you are. You're just too afraid to admit it. You played your game, but it ended up defeating you. And that is why you can't remember.'

Okugi: 'Let's move off this topic. How are we related?'

Hask: 'We used to be gay lovers.'

Okugi: 'Really?'

Hask: 'Heh, no. You couldn't love anyone, but you could feign it. You played people's emotions to suit yourself. We just happen to know each other through a lot of bad things happening.'

Okugi: 'What can you tell me about myself?'

Hask: 'Nothing. I know a lot, but there is nothing I want to tell you.'

Okugi: 'Nothing! Not even a slightest bit?'

Hask: 'Well I can tell you this…'

At this point the conversation shifted languages, to what language it was unknown. But it did not seem if Okugi got what he wanted, because ten minutes later, he left. And that was the last time anyone in Hinata saw Okugi. Not that his presence was unfelt. Every now and then, packages came, from all sorts of places on the globe. Money also seemed to come here, one small package of money, once a month, for the number of months that Okugi had stayed. When Keitaro and Naru got married, a wedding present arrived with no name on it. Inside was a cane that was made of an old mop handle, with a little note on it that read: '_For your old age, may it be far away.' _The Hinata residents knew where it came from, if no one else did. Upon each person's entrance to Tokyo U, again there was a present waiting for them, mostly in books and texts. But he never would visit Hinata again.

Now only one question should remain for those who have faithfully stuck to the story from the beginning until these last words. Who am I? The person who has guided you through this story? I was once a bar patron. A rather drunk woman sat down to tell a story. She only told you part of what I have laid down here. I was so intrigued by this man, this Okugi, man of mystery, that having the resources to do so (I admit that I have some age added to me, as well as wealth to do as I please) that I hunted down every lead (unlike the residents of Hinata Inn, who only remember him when forced to remember him). Some may call it an obsession, I call it a quest. For I believe I can help find out the truth behind this man, I can help myself get over the feeling of uselessness. I need to find someone else's self, in order to validate my own. So I searched this man. I have been to Nepal, talking to wise old men. Russians would speak fondly of the trader who identified himself as only Okugi. In Tibet, apparently he spent time and became a Buddhist Monk. Germans told of a knowledge seeker, who visited universities. In India he consulted gurus. But the story always led back to Hinata, or at least as far as I could track it down.

For once one had reached the point where he left Hinata Inn, he disappeared. The man Okugi seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth. There were no more leads. The places he had frequented received no more visits. The people who knew him did not see him. He never had a job at the electric shop (it is even doubtful that the shop exists). The packages that were seemingly sent from him were postmarked from places it was doubtful he had ever been. It was almost like he went out of his way to make sure he couldn't be tracked from his mail. The only lead one could find was that of Hask. And Hask has disappeared too. He was eventually believed to be the murderer of the women (along with some men as well), and he had fled the country. No one knew where he went, and it was proven practically impossible to track him down. Those two have done what was deemed impossible in the modern era of internet and technology: drop of the map completely to become impossible to track down. Maybe there is a lesson in that.

My search had ended recently, for I had spent several years trying to find him, but failed. I must admit that fact, that my attempts to find this man of mystery had collapsed. But I have seen things that make me wonder. Wonder on the true nature of being. I came close to finding him, I believe, once. In the Northwest of the United States, I heard rumors of Okugi, who had become something of an internet phenomenon for his ability to appear and disappear. I was hiking some of the woods in the area (for that is a supposed favourite activity of his) I came on a burnt out fireplace. Of course that isn't too unusual, until I noticed some cane prints with the footprints. Excited, I followed until I had lost track of them. At that point, I knew I was defeated. And I will throw the veil off of him, and plea him, if he reads this somewhere, to come forth. For I believe that he wants to be known. Also, I bitterly disagree with his mantra (no matter how much he seems to defend it himself):

Okugi- It's what we desire.


End file.
